


Marked

by Actually_Crowley



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Nudity, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 01:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actually_Crowley/pseuds/Actually_Crowley
Summary: In a world where your strongest love dictates a tattoo that you wear for the rest of your life, Hermann has always been afraid to receive his.  When tragedy causes his already tumultuous relationship with Newton to get worse, Hermann understands why he was so afraid of it; to gain a mark for a person who does not love you in return is a pain he never expected to feel.





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CommunionNimrod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommunionNimrod/gifts).



> I like me some weird, fate driven tattoo AUs, and apparently so does CommunionNimrod.

The lab was never usually this silent when both Newton and Hermann were in it. The air was usually filled with shouting, or Newton’s music, or Hermann’s muttering. But none of those things existed now. Newton was sat on a cleaned table awaiting bits of kaiju to dismantle, staring listlessly at a wall, and Hermann sat at his desk, elbows on the pane and head in his hands.

A jaeger had gone down today. Fortuna Allegro. She was driven by her pilots, Dante and Rocco Fierro, cousins who grew up as close as brothers their whole lives, swinging bravely until her bitter end. The kaiju they had taken down eventually died from the injuries it received from Fortuna, but it was too little, too late. Fortuna was unsalvagable and so were her pilots. The dome was under and unofficial, yet still respected, day of silence. Nobody wanted to speak. Some cried. Fortuna’s techs had taken the day to mourn, as they had all been close with the cousins.

They weren’t the only ones. Newt had been close to Rocco, the younger and more outgoing of the two. More to the point, they had been dating. Hermann had caught Newt and Rocco in many a corner making the most of their time, and he’d done his best to ignore it, avoid it, and pretend it wasn’t happening.

But he could do none of that now as he knew Newton’s thousand yard stare while waiting for delivery of his work was all he could do to avoid getting emotional about it. The silence ruined Newton and Hermann’s work ethic. There was no energy in the lab, no urge to hurry up and solve this, and no encouragement to do so.

Hermann didn’t know how long Newton would need. It wasn’t as if he was planning on being with the guy forever; their relationship, from Hermann’s observations and Newton’s own admission, was primal and physical, and that was it. And Hermann believed him.

Their lack of tattoos also said as much.

This wasn’t to speak of tattoos drawn by artists paid. This was a tattoo that occurred, of all the foolish things, naturally, and only once. It sprung upon someone when the love they felt for another was so powerful, even their own body and heart knew they could never love another as much, and they let their soul know by splaying it across their skin. They called it being ‘marked’. One j-tech had a massive hawk that spanned her back and arms, and she consistently wore tank tops to show it off when she wasn’t working. You’d never know without asking, but Hercules Hansen’s torso was covered in faded roses and thorny vines. Those tattoos never faded unless the person they were for had passed.

Rocco had a faded tattoo. Peeking above the collar of his shirts were hints of pale lines depicting a forest decorated in fairy lights, leading to some unknown location. A tattoo of a journey. A journey he could not complete, because the tattoo’s subject had been dead for some time.

A journey he could not complete until now.

Hermann wondered, should they subscribed to the idea, if Newton hoped Rocco was with that loved one now.

Newton had no such tattoos. All of his, according to Newton himself, were sought out and paid for. This didn’t stop people from joking that, of course Newton would have tattoos of kaiju all over him. It wasn’t as if the man was capable of loving a human being. But for all his grievances with Newton, Hermann never played along with such insults. He believed Newton when he said he had no marked tattoo.

He could not say the same for himself.

To Hermann’s ever-growing dismay, he began showing signs of ink upon his skin shortly after he arrived at this Shatterdome and was told he’d be working with Dr. Newton Geiszler-- the man he’d hated since their disastrous first official meeting despite their years of correspondence previously. And he still hated him when they met again. They bickered. They argued. They shouted about mundane things they needn’t shout about. So, when the dark, swirly, mindless marks began carving their way about his body, he convinced himself they couldn’t possibly be for Newton.

The marks had been nonsensical for months. They were disconnected, and held no colour yet. And this was common. Sometimes marks began and wouldn’t finish until the soul could admit exactly what they needed to.

Hermann wouldn’t admit anything like that to himself-- Not during a war like this.

“That sound it made was new,” Newton’s voice was a disruptive bell shattering the silence of the room. “They’ve never done that before.”

Hermann glanced across the room at Newton, face solemn. The sudden noise already made the atmosphere less heavy, but Newton’s energy was still halved. Hermann sighed. “We’ll be taking steps to shield jaegers against it now. Whatever it is.”

The kaiju, which had been named ‘Siren’ for the strange noise it made when it exited the breach, had utilised that same sound to throw off the pilots’ equilibrium and take advantage of their dizzied state. Fortuna’s pilots got the brunt of it and fired off a lucky plasma canon shot that mortally wounded the beast. But it didn’t kill it fast enough to save their lives. By the frequency reading of the sound, it was most likely that it had rendered Rocco and Dante unconscious before Siren did the worst of its damage.

Small mercies, Hermann supposed.

Newton snorted derisively at Hermann’s words and chucked the scalpel he’d been twirling at the floor. There was a high chance that this particular kaiju would not find its way onto Newton’s body anytime soon. “Fat lotta good that’s gonna do now.”

Hermann frowned at him, both for his words and for the mess he was already starting to bring upon the lab. “It will do plenty of good. There’s still a dozen or so pilots who will be stronger now against this new defense.”

“Can you just let me be angry for a minute please? Just one minute. I need to be pissed off, or I’m gonna... I’m gonna go insane.” Newton had drawn his legs up on the table and hugged his knees.

Hermann watched him, his sympathy high, with a deep, strangling, jealous pain in his chest. He could practically feel his marks inching closer and closer toward each other as he took in Newton’s woeful posture. “Newton, hiding it all behind anger like that is likely the reason you’ll go mad. You’re allowed to cry you know, especially now. Especially you. Nobody is all right today.”

“Especially me, huh.”

“Obviously.” Hermann bit the word a bit harder than he’d meant to. “It wasn’t a secret what you had with Mr. Fierro-“

Newton’s fist came down on the metal table so hard, the resulting sound echoed in the room. “Do not finish that sentence, Hermann, I swear to god.”

Hermann’s hackles were raised now. He pursed his lips. He found that, for once, he wasn’t actually sure how to proceed. They hadn’t lost anyone that Newton had been so close to before. He had no idea how Newton mourned. “I’m just _saying_ that you’re allowed to be upset. Everyone knows what he meant to you.”

“Oh, so if he meant nothing to me it wouldn’t matter?”

Hermann leaned back in his chair and cast a glare across the room. “Is there a reason you’re so determined to fight with me?”

Newt threw his legs over the edge of the table and slipped off of it. “Because you’re determined to talk to me about stuff I don’t wanna talk about! All right, Rocco is gone, and it fucking sucks, and you’re not helping me not think about it.”

“ _Everyone_ is thinking about it! We need to use this pain to push harder.”

Newton spun to stare him down. “They didn’t have to die for us to do better! That shouldn’t have even been something that could effect the pilots! All that precious programming and design of yours, and nobody thought to make them fucking sound proof!? There are hybrid cars with better tech than the jaegers, and there’s no excuse for that!”

Hermann went rigid. “Are-... Are you trying to blame _me...?_ ”

“You coded the original jaegers!”

Hermann stood up, growing defensive. “You know as well as I do that that isn’t my job anymore!”

“So it’s someone else’s fault then?”

“ _No!_ It isn’t! And it isn’t mine either!” Hermann knew, intrinsically, that Newton didn’t mean anything he was saying, but he also knew he didn’t deserve to get the brunt of Newton’s assault.

Newton stood as tall as he could-- posturing, Hermann noted. “Well you certainly picked the wrong time to give up working on the bots, didn’t you!?”

“Newton, what on earth are you talking about!?”

Newton took a few angry steps across to Hermann’s side of the lab. “You’re standing there, every day, making predictions about things you can’t possibly fucking predict, thinking you’re doing something worthwhile! When maybe, _just maybe,_ you could be recoding and redesigning jaegers so that kinda shit doesn’t happen!”

Hermann rounded his desk to meet Newton in the middle. “My work here _is_ worthwhile! I’ve been able to calculate kaiju appearances to the day, and you’ve witnessed the evidence!”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t change it up!”

“My predictions are based solely on the science behind the breach! Not some decision on the part of some other-worldly creatures!”

“That breach was their creation! They can probably make it do whatever they want it to! You’re trying to predict a science you could never hope to understand, and you think you’re helping, but you’re not!” Newton took an angry breath. “You’d be doing more good working on that fucking wall with your father!”

Hermann inhaled sharply. The twisting in his chest and crawling on his skin grew worse. His eyes burned. “And I suppose you’re doing so much to help!? You’re a biologist specialising in sea life, and you think you could even _hope_ to understand how the bodies of extraterrestrial beings work!?”

Newton looked just as ready to break as Hermann. “All life has the same building blocks, Hermann, and you _know_ I’ve thrown myself into this for years! I know what I’m doing!”

Hermann filled his lungs. “Then why weren’t you able to warn anybody about Siren’s sounds!? If you’re such a _bloody_ expert, than you should have known the kaiju were capable of such things!”

Newton took a step back. “They _weren’t!_ I have been through so many sets of vocal chords, and they’ve _never_ been able to make that noise before!”

“Or you missed it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it!”

“How do you know!?”

“I just do! I know what I’ve learned!” The next breath Newt took was shaky. “Are you trying to say it’s my fault!? You’re blaming me!?”

“I don’t see any other kaiju biologists in the room! If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe the rabble when they claim you want the blasted kaiju to win!” Hermann was losing his breath. He didn’t want to keep this up, but this overwhelming sorrow wouldn’t let them stop. They needed to fight to achieve normalcy. They couldn’t stop. The painful words neither of them meant would keep coming.

Newton’s face and eyes were red. “Rocco _died_ out there today! You think I wanted that!?”

“Well you must not have wanted _him,_ or you’d have been marked for it! But you’ve certainly let the kaiju have a place where the love for a human should belong, so I suppose we should have all seen this coming then!”

Hermann’s words were the last. They bounced around the room, and every echo told Hermann he’d gone too far. The pain in his chest was at it’s peak. The pain on Newton’s face seemed to be as well. Newton took another step back and pointed at him with a trembling hand. “ _Fuck_ you, Hermann.” His voice was too soft-- too broken-- as he turned away and made for the doorway.

Hermann felt his heart recoil. “Newton-”

Newton whipped to face him, eyes wet and mouth twisted in a snarl, and threw his hand up again. “ _Don’t._ ” And then he left Hermann standing on their line, alone in the lab.

Hermann covered his mouth before the sob could escape it. His chest felt like fire, both inside and out, and with a desperate, terrified huff, he hobbled out of the lab as well.

He wouldn’t be fast enough to catch up with Newton, but that wasn’t his plan as he marched through the halls, not looking up from the metal floor. His cane stamped down too hard as he walked. He heard other people around, but he acknowledged none of them, and they seemed to ignore him all the same. It was just as well; he wouldn’t have known how to form any words as he beelined past everyone and made it to his door. He pried it open and nearly fell into his room in time for his already shaky facade to fall apart.

The door shut behind him as Hermann struggled to undo the top button of his shirt. He couldn’t breathe. He was nearly hyperventilating as he leaned against the wall and gripped the bridge of his nose to try and collect himself.

He hadn’t meant that. He hadn’t meant any of it. And now, Newton was hurt because of him. His body was burning with shame, and he threw his blazer carelessly to the floor. He might find it in himself to care about the mess later, but for now, everything was constricting. He tossed his cane at the bed like it offended him and staggered to the mirror. He glowered at himself, cursing every ounce of him that didn’t have it in him to simply let Newton rant. Perhaps he could have comforted him eventually. Once Newton calmed down, he could have offered Newton a shoulder to cry on, but instead, he’d blamed Newton for everything. Was this even something he could apologise for? Did he deserve to be forgiven? Probably not.

Hermann’s eyes slowly dropped from his face, intending to look at the floor, but they were halted on his neck by a flash of colour-- a hint of blue where there had been none previously. It painted a deep contrast on his skin and peaked out from where the top button had been.

Hermann felt the air leave the room. “No, no, no...” He scrambled back, yanking his sweater vest over his head. He began freeing his buttons desperately, seeing more and more blue and grey and sharp yellow as he went. Where it reached the hem of his pants, he saw with distress that it _kept going._ He peeled off the rest of his clothing and shoes and socks until he stood cold and nude, alone in his room, in front of the mirror. His breath was coming up short. Tears were building in his eyes.

Trespasser curled over his torso like it owned him. It crawled its way up his body, claw gripped over his heart, and the ink spilled down past his stomach-- past his hips. Trespasser’s tail, one that destroyed so many buildings and killed so many people, was now arched protectively over the scarring on his bad leg.

Hermann sobbed out loud and covered his mouth again, shutting his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind why this creature was here. He was in love with Newton. And now, because of feelings he had never been able to chase away, he would always have that reminder in the form of the bane of this planet’s existence painted over his body, holding him tighter than Newton ever would.

Hermann didn’t know what else to do but cry.

~

He woke up hours later in the darkness of his room. At some point, he’d shut off the lights and crawled into bed without putting any of his clothes on. Now, against the natural chill of the Shatterdome, he was freezing, even if he was under his covers. A thick duvet from home was not enough to beat the bleakness of everything.

He sat up slowly, hand lifting blindly to his chest to cover where he knew Trespasser’s claw now sat gripping his heart. He drew in a slow breath and peered down at the time-- 2 a.m. He had no business being awake right now. But he knew that it wasn’t just the cold that roused him.

Hermann owed Newton a deep, heartfelt apology, and he wasn’t willing to wait until morning to give it-- especially now. He stood up from bed, pulling his duvet with him to fight the cold room, and turned on a lamp. He pulled a set of pajamas out, seeing as he wasn’t planning on staying awake for long, and begrudgingly shuffled the duvet off to don them. He winced as he noticed that the top button of the night shirt wasn’t as good at covering his mark like his usual clothing, but he didn’t want to get fully dressed for this. His full outfit was like a uniform-- a shield. Newton deserved vulnerability. And if Hermann’s new mark said anything, it was that Newton was the only person he wanted to be vulnerable for.

He finished dressing, sliding on some socks and slippers, and a robe for good measure to combat the chill in his bones. He loosely made the bed again and then left his room, cane in hand.

The walk to Newton’s room was incredibly short. They hadn’t managed to room directly next to or across from each other, but Newton was only three doors down, diagonal from him. The walk still felt like it took ages, and it didn’t help that anxiety and hesitation took hold and froze Hermann at the door when he got there. Would Newton let him in? Would he even want to hear the apology?

Would he see the tattoo?

Hermann curled his hand around the top button of his shirt and gripped his cane. He had to do this. He had to knock. So he did.

There was no answer. Hermann figured that maybe Newton had been sleeping, as Hermann honestly should have been, but he couldn’t even hear any shuffling on the inside to indicate someone (especially someone like Newton, who was noise made man) waking up. He sighed and knocked again. “Newton? It’s... It’s me. I’d like to speak with you if you’d allow me a moment.”

Still nothing. Hermann’s brow creased, and he pressed his ear to the door. No sound. Not even Newt trying to keep his breathing steady and failing. Hermann pulled away from the door and nursed his lip. Newton wasn’t inside.

Hermann turned and walked down the hallway in the opposite direction of his room. If Newton wasn’t in his room, left only one place for Newton to be-- the lab. Both of them had the same technique of handling stress. They worked, and they worked, until the problem was solved or the stress went away. It was something they had bonded over in their letters. They had been hopeful to work together in the future because if they both loved the work, loving it while working side by side would be exponentially more enjoyable.

That had been the plan.

Now Newton was furious with him, and he had the essence of Newton all over his skin now with nothing to show for it. Hermann knew he had no one to blame but himself for this. They hadn’t gotten on when they met because of Hermann; he’d overreacted to a bit of Newton’s teasing, so used to defending himself from every onslaught thrown at him, and Newton retaliated the same. Hermann had felt hurt that day, because he knew that his heart had been aching for someone like Newton. For _Newton_ in general. The further away that chance had felt, the more it hurt, so he never wrote to him again, and Hermann cut all contact--

\--Until they were suddenly stationed at the same Shatterdome. As soon as he had laid eyes on Newton again after so long, it was clear that those feelings hadn’t lessened at all, and now they had reached the point of no return. Karla’s wistful ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ had never echoed so hard in his head.

He padded through the mostly empty hallways, ignoring anyone who may have still been out and about. Not everyone in the Shatterdome had the same sleep schedule. J-Techs were almost always on hand in shifts, and Tendo all but adopted an impossibly short sleep schedule to be ready to go at all times. K-Science was one of the few branches of the PPDC that could logically work standard job hours, but that didn’t mean they adhered to it. Sometimes work began at 8 a.m. Other times, it began at 4 a.m. It almost always continued well past midnight, or at least until one of them looked ready to drop, and the other one took the liberty of seeing them both to bed for their own good.

When he reached the lab, he found that it was dim, but there was a source of light inside beyond the emergency lights that never went out. On Newton’s side of the lab, on his desk, a lamp was on. It lit very little to any comfortable level, but it was enough for the desk-- which was why Hermann was concerned that he did not see Newton seated within it at first.

When Newton’s tables were out of his view, Hermann found Newton on the floor, along with file after file opened with its contents spread around. A cursory glance at Newton’s filing cabinet showed every drawer opened. He must have upended the entirety of his work.

Newton was kneeling on top of it all, frantically flipping through documents, ripping apart stapled pages, not caring how damaged everything became. Hermann could hear him making frustrated noises as he sped through page after page and apparently didn’t find what he was looking for. “ _Dammit!_ ” Newton threw a page away and punched the pile of pages. Apparently this wasn’t the first time he’d done that, because when his fist pulled away, Hermann spotted a small patch of blood left behind. Then he noticed that there was little bits of blood everywhere on those papers, and Newton’s hands were _shaking_. He’d hurt himself early and just did not stop. Instead, he kept shoving his work around, paper cuts be damned, and flipped through more. Angry tears found their way down Newton’s face.

Hermann panicked and scrambled to him. “Newton! What on earth are you doing!?” He found little pride in the fact that he managed to sound worried and not angry. But that wasn’t because he was trying; it was because it was true. He knelt down by him despite his leg’s protests and hovered his hands around Newton’s shoulders without touching him.

“Go away, Hermann. I gotta find it.” Newton said, trembling fingers flipping though another file before he chucked it across the room with a growl.

“Find what? What are you looking for?”

Newton glared up at him in a way that betrayed disbelief, like Hermann should already know. “My reports! My dissections! I have to find them and check my fucking work!”

Hermann pressed his lips together and leaned forward against his better judgment, finally planting his hand on Newton’s back. His chest ached. “Newton, there’s nothing to check. I know you, you’ve been over all of this a dozen times. What could you possibly be looking for?”

Newton did not flinch away from the touch, even though he still kept looking. “I missed something. I-... I had to have missed something, Hermann, you were right, okay? You were fucking right, and I should have known about the sound, I should have seen it coming, it doesn’t make any sense that I didn’t...!” His movements grew so frantic, they had no rhyme or reason, scattering the reports blindly until he revealed bare flooring and punched it again in his distraught state.

Hermann leaned further in and threw an around across his chest, pulling him away from the floor. “Enough! Stop that! You didn’t miss anything!”

“Well I fucking _must_ have or Rocco would still be alive right now, wouldn’t he!?”

Newton struggled to get out of his hold, but it was a weak attempt, and not at all a true one. Otherwise, Hermann might have let him go. Instead, he pulled him in closer and curled his arms around him. “Of all the bloody times to listen to me, you pick the one time none of it is true! I didn’t mean what I said to you before! I was angry, and I went for the throat, and I shouldn’t have! This is not your fault, Newton.”

Newton clung to his arm. Blood was getting on Hermann’s shirt, but he didn’t care. Newton sobbed. “B-But it _is!_ I should have been able to find something like that, it’s so obvious-”

“If it were so obvious, than you would have found it. As you said. If you didn’t find it, _it wasn’t there._ I promise you darling, please listen to me now and not then.” Hermann ignored how his newly marked skin felt like fire the closer he held Newton to him. “I’m _sorry_ , Newton. I’m so sorry for the things that I said to you in anger. It is no excuse, and it was the worst thing to say to you when you are in so much pain...” He buried his face in Newton’s hair and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t expect you to forgive me; I do not deserve it. But please, stop blaming yourself because of me.”

At some point, in his shifting, Newton had tucked his head away against Hermann’s barely covered collarbone, his own eyes shut tight. ”...I’m sorry, too.” He inhaled sharply and rose up, forcing himself to settle higher with his chin on Hermann’s shoulder, arms winding around his waist with a desperate grip. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to blame you for it either.” Tears were still falling, and his voice was still shaky, but Newton was trying his best. “I started it, and I didn’t know how to stop.”

Hermann brushed his hand over the back of Newton’s head in a soothing manner. “Neither of us did. We fell back into old habits when we should have just... been there for each other.” Hermann took a breath. “I should have been there for _you_.”

Newton didn’t say anything else. Whether that meant he agreed or disagreed, Hermann wasn’t sure, but he was happy to sit there on the floor, holding him against his stinging chest, letting Newton take whatever he needed from him.

They sat there for a while before Newton hissed and pulled back. “Shit, I really-... really made a mess, didn’t I?”

Hermann nodded. “It’s not far from your usual mess, to be honest. It fits right in on your side of the room,” Hermann teased, rubbing Newton’s arm.

Newton snorted. That was a good sign. His comment was taken as it was meant to be-- as a joke. Newton sighed, rubbing at his eyes dry with his clothed forearm. “Shit... I should probably-” He cleared his throat. “Lemme clean this up.” He turned to reach for a folder.

Hermann stopped him. “Not with your hands in the state they’re in. Absolutely not.” He patted the ground for his cane and forced himself to stand again, holding his hand to pull Newton to do the same. “We can tackle this mess together tomorrow. After we’ve sorted out your hands.”

“You mean today?” Newton asked with a frustrated glance at the clock. Not even 3 a.m. yet.

Hermann rolled his eyes. “It’s still yesterday somewhere. And you, especially, need to rest.” He tugged his arm and led Newton back out of the lab. Newton seemed more than willing to comply. His hands still trembled-- he was lucky he didn’t break something-- and his fingers curled into his palms.

They walked in silence. Newton said nothing, and Hermann expected nothing. When they arrived at Newton’s room, he unlocked the door and allowed Hermann to open it to spare his weak hands. Hermann lead the way inside, scooting some of the clothes and book piles on the floor out of his way with his cane. Newton broke the silence here, but only barely, to apologise for the mess. Hermann forgave him with a look that told Newton he shouldn’t need to say that word again for the rest of the night, and pushed him to sit on the bed. Then Hermann made his way to Newton’s bathroom.

It was cluttered, but Hermann was happy to find that clutter didn’t necessarily mean unclean. He wet a washcloth and retrieved a first aid kit he remembered giving to Newton once several months ago after yelling at him for being so careless with himself. By the looks of it, everything in the damn thing had been used already, and the supply within it was new.

He brought both back to Newton and sat next to him on the bed, opening the kit and pulling one of Newton’s hands into his lap to tend to it. “You ought to be sweeter to these hands. They are your livelihood after all.”

Newton laughed weakly. “...Guess I just understand how the pilots feel now. Just needed to hit something, and there wasn’t... really a way to deck myself in the face, so. Floor.”

Hermann ran the warm, wet clothing over Newton’s knuckles and rolled his eyes again. “You don’t deserve to be decked in the face, Newton.”

Newton shrugged and winced.. “I dunno. I’m really smart, but I’ve been a dumb fuck with a lot of the things I do.”

“And yet, you’re still working for the better of the world and those living in it.” Hermann smiled softly. “I wish more people would look past those tattoos and see that. They mock you for your interests and hate you for it, but you’re still working for the PPDC. Imagine if you’d gone off to join the kaiju cult? We’d be in some serious trouble if that happened.”

Newton chuckled again, but there was no power behind it. Instead, he grew quiet again, and Hermann let him. Eventually, the bloody knuckles and paper cuts were cleaned thoroughly and gently, and Hermann began wrapping gauze around those tortured hands.

By the time he finished wrapping them both, Newton had finally lifted his eyes to look at Hermann. At first, Hermann was terrified he’d seen the ink, but he’d had the collar shifted as high as it could go; Newton couldn’t see it. No, Newton was looking straight at him. Hermann met his gaze with confusion. Newton’s stare was resolute. “I wouldn’t have gotten marked for Rocco, you know.”

Hermann flinched and looked away, picking up the first aid kit to start packing everything back up. “Don’t say that, Newton. You don’t know what you would have felt after some time...”

Newton shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t have mattered.” A smile returned, and it was heavy-- sad. “I already had mine.”

Hermann’s head shot up. He stared straight at Newton’s face to search for a lie and found nothing. What was he trying to say, telling him this? ”...I didn’t know that.”

Newt shrugged. “That’s because I never told you. I didn’t think it was relevant.”

Hermann arched a brow at him and returned to the kit, rolling the remaining gauze back up. “No, you absolutely said all your tattoos were purchases. So this was no omission, you just lied.”

Newton smiled again, a little wider and a little sadder. He began rolling his sleeves up, which was something Hermann realised he hadn’t done in a while. “That’s because I... I tried to cover it. I thought maybe if I pretended it was never there, it’d be easier to deal with. Rocco knew about it, because I tell people about it anytime we get physical-- that I can’t be marked for them. That I’m damaged goods. You know the drill.”

Hermann closed the kit with a scoff and set it aside. “You’re not _damaged goods_ , Newt,” He warned, feeling his chest go tight.

“No. But people usually want a blank canvas. Rocco didn’t care.” Newton finished tackling his sleeves as he drifted off into his memories. “He was already marked too, and neither of us stood a chance of having who we wanted for one reason or another. He understood, I understood, we just... got what we needed out of each other. It was never gonna be enough, but he was okay with that.”

Hermann bit his lip. “Your mark... was it faded?” He really didn’t need to hear that Newton had lost two people now. It would destroy his remaining resolve.

Newton thankfully shook his head. “No. I just... know it’s not gonna happen. I covered it up so I didn’t have to think about it.” He held up his bandaged hands. “Don’t get me wrong, the kaiju were going on me whether or not I wanted to hide the mark. But when I went to get it done, I just didn’t wanna see it, so I asked her to make the design cover it, and she did a great job. I didn’t think about it for years.” His hands dropped to his lap, and he swallowed. “Then they just... had to go and assign me here. And the damn mark came back.” He snorted and closed his eyes. “It doesn’t like being hidden when you still feel it, did you know that?”

Hermann’s throat had gone dry. He shook his head. “I didn’t.” His voice was far away.

Newton gave him one last smile and then turned away, staring at the floor. He held out his arm, Yamarashi staring up at Hermann from his skin. “It came right back up. Changed a little, but it-... it didn’t go away. It wouldn’t stay down.”

Hermann lifted a shaky hand to take Newton’s wrist. Clearly Newton wanted him to look, but Hermann didn’t know what he was going to find. _Who_ he was going to find. At first, nothing seemed different. Yamarashi’s sharp face glowered up at him from Newton’s skin, all bright colours and sharp claws. He squinted at it, having trouble looking so closely without his glasses, and then he noticed it. The dark lines around Yamarashi seemed broken up. He leaned in a little closer, squinting harder, and he saw in place of the thick, solid lines that used to follow the beast’s shape, there were numbers.

Hermann knew those numbers.

Those were _his_ numbers.

His eyes widened, and he moved his attention to Newton’s other arm, yanking it over to take in, sure enough, more of his own work outlining the beast he found there. These were his predictions-- all of it his equations and work that he had done since moving on from coding to the science of the breach. Everything was there from his boards. Hermann couldn’t breathe.

He looked up to Newton’s face, but found that he was turned fully away. Newton couldn’t look at him. ”...You won’t stay down, Herms. I don’t-” His shoulders hunched and his words quaked. “...I don’t know what to do.”

Hermann’s body was on fire. His grip on Newton’s arm tightened. “You don’t have to do anything.” He lifted his other hand to reach around to Newton’s chin, gripping his jaw and tugging him to face him again. Newton’s eyes were wet. His gaze was apologetic. Hermann needed to tell him that he didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

Instead, he leaned in and kissed him.

Newton’s reaction was instantaneous. He leaned in with twice the force until Hermann had to brace an arm behind him to keep from falling over. His other hand found the back of Newton’s head, and he held on for dear life. Newton kissed like the world had already ended. They had seconds to live, and he was going to make damn sure Hermann felt like the most cherished being on the planet in that time. Hermann hoped that he could match that exuberance. He gripped Newton’s head like he’d disappear if he let go and parted his lips to kiss more of that desperate mouth. He felt Newton’s hands curling around his back and dragging blunt nails along his spine.

Hermann knew he shouldn’t feel this happy after such a tragedy. Newton loved him. Newton loved _him._ Hermann hadn’t ruined his chances with their disastrous meeting all those years ago. He thought for sure that Newton thought he was too uptight, too repressed, too strict.

Hermann shifted himself further back onto the bed, never letting Newton get more than an inch away from his face until he was dropped into the pillows. Newton clambered over his now prone body, swinging a leg over his hips and settling down carefully. He peered down at Hermann, eyes still red behind glasses knocked crooked, checking and double checking his reactions to make sure this was all right. Hermann answered by grabbing Newton’s buttoned shirt and yanking him back down to meet his lips. Newton obliged.

Despite their position, Newton seemed nervous to go further. His hands stayed on Hermann’s face, fingers brushing under his jaw and tucking below the lobes of his ears. His thumbs caressed Hermann’s cheeks as Newton continued to study every angle of his mouth with his own. He kissed Hermann’s thin lips apart, but something was keeping him from moving on from there.

“How long?” Hermann managed in a split second of lost contact, hands sliding up Newton’s back.

Newton didn’t return to his lips immediately. He bit his down and ducked his head. ”...Letter days.”

Hermann frowned and tilted his head back up. “...Oh, _Newton-_ ”

Newton flinched and sat up so fast, Hermann’s hands had to slide down to his hips to keep touching him. “Don’t do that, okay? Just don’t. It’s bad enough you’re pitying me right now, but you’ve gotta go make it personal, too?” He started in on the buttons of his own shirt. “Can we just... do this and not talk, maybe?” He gave up on the buttons and yanked his shirt up over his head.

Hermann took in the familiar tattoos and realised that they were even more different than he’d expected. _Every single line_ was numbers. Those shaping the beasts on his chest and neck were his jaeger coding, and behind them all, the backdrop that had been the red and yellow swirls bled into a nebula that spanned Newton’s chest. Hermann recognised the stylised etchings as his favourite nebula-- the Orion nebula. The first one he’d ever seen in real life and not just in pictures. He lifted a hand to spread over the background, stroking the familiar stars with a soft smile. “What are you talking about ‘pity’?” He said, tracing the lines-- _his_ lines-- and memorising their contours.

Newton scoffed, eyes looking heavy with stress again. “You know exactly what I mean.” He bit his lip, but he leaned into the touch anyway, and then further to struggle with Hermann’s shirt buttons.

For once, Hermann wasn’t terrified of Newton seeing what lay beneath the fabric. He held his smile as Newton popped the first button free and froze. Now that Newton’s attention was right there, there was no way he could miss it. Hermann watched his eyes go wide. He felt Newton’s hands frantically undo the rest of the buttons, and Newton threw the shirt open like curtains on a sunny day.

He stared down at the mark as if life suddenly made sense. All the questions he would ever have were answered, and nothing could go wrong. Newton’s hand coasted carefully down the curve of Trespasser’s back blade, rising back up to close over the claw protecting Hermann’s heart. Hermann leaned up on an elbow and cupped Newton’s face with his other hand. “There is nothing about this that is pity, darling.”

Newton sat back on his feet and Hermann’s legs, reaching up to cover his mouth as the dam broke and the tears came. “That’s... That’s for me...?” He asked, muffled behind his hand.

Hermann sat up the rest of the way and wrapped his arms around Newton’s middle, nuzzling his arms out of the way to press a kiss on a patch of stars on Newton’s chest. “Well I should hope I don’t have feelings for Trespasser.”

Newton’s laugh was breathless and manic. It was crossed with a sob that had been lodged in his throat and was carried out with it as he exhaled. He threw his arms around Hermann and buried his face in the crook of Hermann’s neck, shaking against him.

Hermann held him just as tightly with his nose resting on Newton’s neck. He left several little kisses there and just let Newton cry. Today, no matter how well it seemed to be ending, had been hard on Newton, and he hadn’t given himself any real time to feel it. Now he knew that Hermann was a safe place, and all those things he needed to feel could come out as they needed.

Hermann leaned backwards and took Newton with him, settling back on his pillows and raking his fingers through Newton’s chaotic mane. “It’s all right, my dear. I have you. I’m right here.”

Newton sniffled and pulled back just enough to look down into Hermann’s eyes. Hermann beamed and brought his thumb to wipe a tear from Newton’s cheek. Newton managed a weak smile for him before leaning down and kissing him again. This time, he kissed like he knew Hermann wasn’t going anywhere. There was no fear, and no hesitation-- only determination to make sure Hermann knew he was the most important person on this base.

Newton kissed him so thoroughly, Hermann believed him.

~

When Hermann woke up, he was nude again. He let his eyes stay closed for a while, because he knew if he opened them, he’d have to acknowledge how late it was in the morning and get up. At least he wasn’t cold this time.

Newton’s arms were wound around his waist, and Hermann was pressed close into the furnace that was Newton’s skin. His chin was resting in Newton’s hair, and Newton’s nose was pressed against his sharp collarbone, ghosting slow, warm breaths across his skin every time Newton exhaled. Lord, Hermann did not want to move. He gave a soft sigh and wrapped his own arms tighter around Newton, soaking up as much of that warmth as he could.

“Good morning, Herms.”

Newton’s voice made Hermann jump, and Newton laughed. “Sorry! Sorry. I thought you knew I was awake.”

Hermann leaned back to squint down at Newton. “Obviously not. I figured you would be the type to sleep through a tornado.”

“Oh, I totally am.” Newton seemed to be more like himself today as he peered up at him from his arms. “But I’ve been awake for a little while.”

Hermann went a bit pink. “...Oh? Why didn’t you wake me?”

Newton shrugged. “Not like I was lonely. I guess I was just... stabilising myself? You know, going over last night and... hoping to whatever god may still be listening to us that it all actually happened.” He moved a hand to Hermann’s chest and traced the claw over his heart. “...Kinda hard to deny it when it’s staring me in the face. I just wanted some time alone. Like, with you, but. Alone. In my head. You know?”

“Newton...” Hermann shifted down slightly in the bed and rested his head against Newton’s. “It did happen. I’m just so sorry that it had to come after such a tragedy...” He touched Newton’s face again. “I’m sorry about Rocco.”

Newton gave him a smile. “Don’t worry about it. He’d be happy about this, trust me.”

Hermann bit his lip. “He would?”

“He knew exactly who my mark was for, and he was kinda pissed at me that I was ‘wasting my time’ when you were right there.” Newton sighed and closed his eyes. “I was so convinced that you just straight up hated me, but... clearly I was wrong. He’d be happy to know that.”

Newton’s wistful tone set something on fire in Hermann’s chest, and he smiled. ”...I’m glad. I was beginning to worry what impression I would make coming out of your room the day after.”

Newton snickered and snuggled closer to Hermann, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “Aw, you don’t wanna do the walk of shame outta my room, Dr. Gottlieb? I thought you loved me.”

Hermann’s pink went full red, and he ducked his head. Instead of retorting with his own joke, he lifted his gaze again and kissed back, a little harder, and a little longer. He pulled away and stared into those green depths like they were the last thing he would ever see. “I do love you, Newton. I hope you never forget that.”

Newton’s humour disappeared, but the smile stayed. He beamed bright enough to power all the stars in Hermann’s favourite nebula. “I love you too, Hermann.”

Hermann kissed him again. Maybe, in the wake of everything that has happened, they could afford to be a bit late.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated Christmas, Kerry! I hope you liked it!


End file.
